‘Com’ on, Nancy! We have to get going!’
Cynthia quickly said to Nancy, still in a
state of panic fearing that she was talking
too loudly.
‘Who’s that man?’ Cynthia hastily
smacked her hand over Nancy’s loud
mouth.
Looking around to make sure that no one
heard Nancy, Cynthia soon realised that
they were alone. ‘You need to be quieter.
I don’t know who that man is, but we
have to keep walking.’
‘But my feet hurt!’ Nancy loudly
complained, dragging out the last word
she said.
‘Shhhh! I don’t care if your feet hurt, we
have to keep going!’ scolded Cynthia.
The girls continued further into the bush.
Suddenly a loud snap was heard in the
eerily quiet bush. Cynthia ever so slowly
tilted her head down to see that a big
branch had snapped under her weight.
‘They must be somewhere over there, sir,’
Without thinking, Cynthia immediately
gripped Nancy’s arm and rushed through
the bush, not caring how many branches,
sticks or dried up leaves they stepped on
or the amount of noise they were making.
Crack, snap, crunch, one after another,
but Cynthia didn’t care, she wanted to find
somewhere safe and out of sight for her
and Nancy to hide for a while.
Cynthia hurriedly forced Nancy into a
big, beige, boab tree that luckily had a
hole in the side. Inside it was squishy
and hot, with numerous amounts of bugs
continuously crawling in and out. But that
didn’t seem to bother the girls, especially
Cynthia as she was still immensely
worrisome about what was happening.
‘It’s too squishy in here. I wanna get
outta ‘ere,’ Nancy started with the
complaints again.
‘If you wanna see mother again, you
gotta be quiet. Got it?’ ranted Cynthia,
blowing out hot air to move the hair out
of her face. She closed her eyes and
rested her head against the hollow
tree trunk, the events of the day finally
catching up with her.
Cynthia startled when she felt someone
begin to move around close to her.
She hesitantly opened her eyes to see
that Nancy wasn’t in the tree anymore.
Eagerly she raced out of the tree to see
where Nancy could have gone.
‘Nancy!’ Cynthia ran around the tree to
make sure Nancy wasn’t playing a trick on
her. ‘Nancy!’
‘S’cuse me sir, could you help me and
my sister find our mother?’ Oh no. Panic
quickly made its way to Cynthia’s face
as she realised where Nancy had gone.
‘Doesn’t she ever listen to mother? DON’T
talk to strangers, especially white fella.’
Cynthia thought as she spotted Nancy
walking towards one of the whit fellas.
Running as fast as she could, Cynthia
tightly grabbed Nancy’s arm and
forced her to run along with her, but
unfortunately they weren’t fast enough.
As soon as they started to run, Cynthia
felt a firm grip on her upper arm. With
fearful eyes, she turned her head and saw
the face who belonged to the hand.
short stories
Stolen away cont.
Grace, Year 8
Mount St
Benedict
College
Pennant Hills
NSW
Basedonatruestory